Fast Times at Monstropolis High!
by B. C. Schiele
Summary: Randall and Val's highschool days. Ah, remenis.
1. A Quiet Morning at the Boggs Home

* I sadly am not the owner of Randall Boggs or Monsters Inc., but Val Boggs is mine. This is the story of Val and Randall's days in high school. Just so you know, it's the 80's, my favorite decade. It's 1987, to be specific. Val's into Rock 'n Roll, and Randall's going for New Wave, it could happen. I hope you enjoy this and don't think it's stupid. Enjoy, dudes. *  
Chapter 1: A Quiet Morning at the Boggs Home  
  
The ear-splitting scream of my alarm clock brought me out of my peaceful sleep. I had been dreaming about Susan Serigate. She was the most beautiful monster at Monstropolis High. I don't know what it was about her. Maybe, it was the way she moved. They way all ten of her legs seemed to flow in one fluid motion. Or, maybe it was the way all five of her eyes reflected the sun or it could have been her beautiful red scales. I just didn't know, but anyway, she was hot.  
  
I opened my eyes and looked at my clock. It was five-thirty in the morning. I hated getting up so early in the mornings, but I had to get ready for school. School wasn't as much of a chore as a necessity, but I still hated it. I'd rather stay home and listen to my albums or go to the mall and play Space Invaders.  
  
I had forgotten to get a shower last night and now I was paying the price. Being a reptile and all, I didn't sweat. Also I didn't smell that much, but still, I had to keep my scales looking shiny and new with a weekly shower. If I was ever going to bag Susan, I had to look my best, as I always did.  
  
My room was dimly lit from the still rising sun. I could see my piles of rock records in the corner, next to the turntable. The walls were painted an almost black purple, the curtains were the same color. I had about twenty or so rock n' roll posters hanging on the walls and pinned to the ceiling. All my favorite rock bands and singers were there; AC/DC, Def Leppard, Pink Floyd, Lars Smetter, and Zid Carmichael, just to name a few.  
  
I pulled the silky sheets off and climbed out of the bed. The wooly, warm carpet felt good under my four feet. I wiggled my toes happily and headed toward the bathroom. My bathroom connected to my bedroom. I unbuttoned my Iron Maiden pajama shirt and walked into the bathroom and turned on the shower. I threw my shirt into the laundry basket and climbed in the shower. The steamy hot water felt good on my cool scales. Within a few minutes the shower had warmed my cold blood to a more comfortable temperature.  
  
I grabbed a bottle of scale conditioner and poured out a handful. I rubbed it in all four of my hands and lathered it on. The conditioner tingled on my scales, it was really soothing. It had a nice smell to it, almost like spoiled milk. It said on the bottle that it would attract girls like a magnet. I didn't believe it, but it was worth a try.  
  
After about twenty minutes, I got out of the shower and toweled off. I looked in the mirror and smiled. Most people thought I was pretty hansom, for a reptile. I didn't think I looked that good. But, I looked better than most. Not having actual skin with oil glands and all that, I didn't have acne. While most monsters my age were wasting away in front of their mirrors moaning and groaning about their newest zit, I was eating breakfast.  
  
I concentrated for a moment and the next second the image in the mirror vanished. I had been practicing my camouflage skills for a few weeks and I had just gotten the hang of it. My brother Randall had been able to do it for the past six months, but hey, he's a year older than me. What can I say? I reappeared in the mirror.  
  
I ran my hands through my fronds and walked back into my room. I walked over to my closet and opened the door. Inside were all my shirts, boots, and my prized possession, my four-sleeved leather biker jacket. It had more zippers, buttons and rock pins than could be counted. And cresting the two top shoulders of my jacket were silver spikes. It was beautiful. I had had it for two years and it still looked, and smelled new.  
  
I thumbed through my shirts deciding which one to wear. "Hmm. Should I wear the Pink Floyd shirt, or the Led Zeppelin shirt," I chuckled and rubbed my chin like I was making an important decision. Finally I picked one. "I'll go for The Wall shirt," I grabbed the Pink Floyd shirt and slid it over my head.  
  
I walked over to my radio and pressed the power button. One of my favorites was just starting to play on the radio, Animal by Def Leppard. I grabbed up my two pairs of black combat boots and walked over to the bed. I sat down and started tying them up. The song was really blasting out of my radio. I didn't believe in playing a good rock song at a low volume. My mom still asks how I don't go deaf.  
  
"A wild ride, over stony ground. Such a lust for life, the circus comes to town.  
  
We are the hungry ones, on a lightning raid. Just like a river runs, like a fire needs flame, I burn for you. I gotta' feel it in my blood. Oh whoa! I need your touch don't need your love. Oh whoa! And I want, and I need, and I lust Animal!"  
It didn't take long to get my boots nice and tight on my feet. Just like my jacket, they looked like new. The leather on the boots glistened in the light from my window. The strings were in pristine condition. In other words, my boots were gnarly.  
  
"I cry wolf, given mouth to mouth. Like a movin' heartbeat in the witching hour. I'm runnin' with the wind, a shadow in the dust, and like the drivin' rain. Yeah! Like the restless rust, I never sleep. I gotta feel it in my blood. Oh whoa! I need your touch don't need your love. Oh whoa! And I want, and I need, and I lust. Animal!"  
  
I turned off my radio, and grabbed my leather jacket and slid into it. My boots clomped and stomped all the way down the stairs as I made my way to the kitchen. Mom and Randall were both sitting at the table. Dad was already at work. He worked at Monsters Inc. He was the top scarer and therefore he made the most money. I think like a hundred-thou a year. That's why mom could stay home and take care of her "little angels." At times, mom was a little crazy. Unlike most parents, she didn't have a problem with my clothes, music, or any of my friends. She was as close to "cool" as a mom could be.  
  
In the kitchen, Randall was sitting at the table, mom was moving around, trying to stay as busy as possible. She got board easily. Unlike me, Randall didn't go much for leather; he was into "New Wave". Stuff like Flock of Sea Gulls, Squeeze, and some band called "The Fixx." He was wearing a black dress shirt, a thin piano key necktie, and four pairs of brand new black and white checkered tennis shoes. He also had his fronds done up in what resembled a seagull. Go figure. Mom was wearing a black A- line skirt and a pink blouse. She had her hair pulled up in a neat bun. I sat down at the table.  
  
"Hey sweetie," she would always say. "How are you doing this morning?" She smiled at me. Randall choked back a laugh.  
  
"I'm fine mom. What's for breakfast?" I smiled back, Randall was dieing in his seat.  
  
"I cooked some eggs and some new kind of sausage I bought at the store. It was on sale." If it was on sale, mom would buy it. She kissed me on the cheek. Then, to my relief, she walked over and gave Randall a little peck. I grinned at him while mom wasn't looking. "That sound good to you boys?" she asked.  
  
"Yeah, sure mom. Sounds great," Randall and I both answered at the same time. We knew how to keep mom happy, because if mom wasn't happy, nobody was happy. If Randall and me were going to argue, we'd do it out of mom's range of sight and hearing, or face the consequences.  
  
She smiled and walked over to the stove. I could smell the eggs. They had a pretty good aroma, but what I guessed was the new sausages did not smell good. Mom got two plates ready and poured two glasses of orange juice with both pairs of her hands. She tapped one of her high heel shoes on the tile floor as she worked. She let her bright green tail sway gently behind her in a happy motion. Thankfully, she was apparently in a good mood.  
  
She turned around and brought us both out food. I looked down at my plate. The eggs look normal. They were blood red, but the sausage, which was usually green, was a dark brown color. I looked up at mom and faked a smile. "They look good," I lied through my teeth. I was pretty good at that; going to school after all, I had plenty of practice  
  
She just smiled back and said, "Well, then dig in." She walked off into the living room. I looked over at Randall, who was just about to take a bite of his breakfast. He bit into the brown piece of meat and I swear, he turned white as marble. He spit the sausage back up so fast it flew across the kitchen and landed in the garbage can.  
  
I almost died laughing, "Great shot Randall!" I couldn't control myself. I clapped my hands in hysteria. Randall was now sucking down his glass of orange juice as fast as he could in a feeble attempt to get the taste out of his mouth.  
  
"Ha," he said dully, obviously he didn't see the humor in the situation. He cleared his throat. "Okay, how about you take a bite." He gave me one of his famous smirks. I think he practiced in front of a mirror to develop a smirk like that. Another year or to and it could be a "trade mark."  
  
"Okay, uh, I will," I smiled at him. I took my fork and scured a piece of the sausage. Grease slowly oozed out as my fork stabbed it. I raise it to eye level and stuck it in my mouth. It tasted like an old sweaty sock. It was great! "Ranball, how coulb you no like dis?" I asked with my mouth full.  
  
"What did you say?" Randall quirked an eyebrow, he didn't catch a word of what I just said. "I don't speak imbecile.  
  
I ignored his last comment, swallowed my food, and repeated what I said, "How could you not like this?" I put another forkful of sausage and eggs in my mouthed and chewed happily. I was even happier about how sick Randall looked watching me eat. I started smacking my food to add to the effect. If I did it long enough, maybe he'd barf.  
  
"That 'food' isn't good enough for a human. I don't know why you like it," he answered, getting up to get another glass of orange juice, and throw away his breakfast. He paused for a moment and then spoke again. "But, being a 'Psychotic Rock-Head' I'm not surprised you'd like something like that."  
  
I just smiled and flipped him "the bird" with my bottom hands and continued eating with the others. "Whatever, dude." Randall just rolled his eyes. I shoveled another glob of eggs into my mouth. They were just as good as the sausage. As Randall put his clean plate in the sink, mom came back in.  
  
"So, how was it?" she asked. Her face was as bright as it had been when she left. Mom always seemed happy and energetic. Probably because she never really did anything tiring, she always had a crazed frantic look about her.  
  
"I loved it," I said, "It was great. You should cook this more often." I stood up and carried my empty plate to the sink.  
  
She looked over at Randall, "Did you like it, hon?"  
  
Randall hesitated for a moment and then spoke, "Yeah, it was delicious."  
  
"Well, good. Now both of you go upstairs and brush your teeth. The bus will be here in twenty minutes. Oh, and Randall, when you leave, grab a coat, it's supposed to be a little cool today." She said. Ever since Randall got the flu at age six, mom has been paranoid about him getting it again.  
  
"Okay mom," he said. More than likely he'd forget anyway.  
  
We both walked upstairs into the hallway bathroom to brush our teeth. "So, Randall, you got any plans for after school?" I looked over at where he was, he was gone. "Randall?"  
  
"I'm going over to the DMV to get my learner's permit after school," he said as he appeared behind me. I almost jump out of my skin, but, like I said, I didn't have skin, so there wasn't really a problem. He was laughing his head off. "Now we're even about breakfast!"  
  
"Yeah, yeah. We're even." I restrained myself from planting a few fists in his face. "Anyway, I'm planning on going to the mall. I heard the record got in a shipment of Cheap Trick albums." I spit some toothpaste into the sink and rinsed out my mouth.  
  
"Records? Come on Val, it's 1987, there's something out called "CD's" you know?" He asked with one of his arms over my shoulder and one of his others waving slowly in front of me like a car sales monster. He just didn't get it. I liked records; vinyl had a sound to it that couldn't be put on a "CD."  
  
"I know, but I don't have a CD player. And anyway, I like records," I said while I messed with my fronds in the mirror.  
  
Randall just sighed and walked out of the bathroom. After I grabbed my wallet from my room and put it in my jacket, I went downstairs. Randall had amazingly put on his red jacket. We both got our books for school and walked out the front door, only after hugs and kisses from "Psycho Mom." As I said, I didn't really like school, but Randall didn't hate it just as much as I did, but we both sure hated waiting for the bus. Finally, it pulled up and stopped with a screeching sound from its tires. It was yellow, of course, with eight wheels and a bunch of busted out windows. The paint was peeling in a bunch of places and the bus sign on top was gone, probably stolen. We both got on and in a seat and the bus slowly pulled away.  
  
I hope you liked this. Unlike Miami Heat, I plan to continue writing this story. The next chapter will deal with Randall and Val's friends at school and what not. And now for the boring part, the copy rights. Led Zeppelin, Cheap Trick, AC/DC, Def Leppard and Animal, Flock of Sea Gulls, The Fixx, Iron Maiden, Pink Floyd and The Wall, and Squeeze are all copy righten to their respective owners. So don't try to sue me. 


	2. Interview With a Stoner, or, A Bus Ride

*As I said, this chapter will be mostly about meeting the Boggs Brothers close friends. Maybe some other stuff. Who knows? Enjoy. *  
  
The bus that went by our house was basically what my friend Bruce would call "shitty." Bruce was my numero uno best friend. Bruce wasn't an ordinary kinda' monster. He was really laid back and mellow. He was what most would call "a stoner." I must agree. But hey, they don't call it "high" school for nothing. He was always spaced out, but he was more fun to be around that a dumb jock, or a ditzy "Valley Monster." Also, Bruce had a very limited, and when I say, "Limited," I mean it, taste in music. He liked four bands, period. Led Zeppelin, The Doors, Deep Purple, and The Beatles. Go figure, I only liked Zeppelin.  
  
Bruce was the same age as me, about sixteen. He was a lizard type monster, almost identical to me, except for a few differences. He had six arms and legs, unlike my four. Also, instead of fronds, he had a wild dirty blonde head of hair that was never brushed or combed. He washed it every night, but he didn't do anything besides that. It was just there. His scales were smaller than mine and a pail white color, speckled with greens, blues, reds, and blacks. His tail was longer. And, he had three eyes with silver pupils, all of them bloodshot and droopy. Last, his mouth had like two or three rows of sharp fang-like teeth. He was pretty interesting to look at, probably scare a human kid shitless. He always wore a faded jean jacket, a gold necklace, and blue tennis shoes. He was really cool in my book.  
  
When Bruce spoke, he didn't let on to just how intelligent he really was. I think he had a two-twenty I.Q. or something. Almost every sentence that came from his mouth had either the words, "like, man," or, "dude" in it. Like I said, he was fun to be around.  
  
My other best friend was named Gregory. I called him Greg. He was what everyone would call, "a geek." So he made good grades, I made good grades too. I think it was really how he dressed. He always wore some heavily starched shit, with pocket protector. And he needed a new pair of glasses. His were coke bottle frames with tap down the middles. And maybe also, it was his haircut, or maybe his braces, or maybe even the fact that he had like thirty academic awards. On second thought, he was a geek. But it's not like he knew the dictionary backwards or anything like that. Besides, he was my friend; I didn't care what he was.  
  
He was shorter than me, blue, and three eyes. With his glasses, he was "six eyes." His legs were inverted and what not. He had a brother in the exchange student program named Fungus. Just like Bruce, I didn't know Greg's last name.  
  
The bus slowed to a stop, and Bruce got on. He had on a pair of three eyed shades. He had a dazed and almost confused look on his face. He grinned and waved at me. Slowly, with the up most grace of a stoned monster, he made his way to the back of the bus and sat down in the seat in front of me. "Hey dude, how's it hanging?" he asked, it was his usual greeting.  
  
"To the left," I said. "How are you doing? You look pretty gone today." He took of his glasses, reveling his bloodshot eyes.  
  
"Yeah, mom and dad had another fight, you know how it is. Anyway, I took a small chunk out of my 'Stash o' Hash'," he said. That was the only reason Bruce smoked what he did. He did it to escape his shitty home life. I didn't blame him. It wasn't like he was into any other drugs.  
  
Anyway, back to what was going on. The bus was very rundown. The seats were torn and ripped. Most of the duct tape that had covered the holes had been pulled off. There was a layer of candy wrappers, chewed gum, and dirt about a half-inch thick on the metal floor. The bus driver was an older monster. She wore glasses with rhinestones in the corners. She looked like a large slug with sharp teeth. I still don't know how she worked the pedals. I heard she was some girl at school's grandmother. I think her name was Roz.  
  
Bruce looked back at Randall. Randall never really liked Bruce, not since he thought he was my sister for a week and a half. And also, I think Randall still held it against him that one time when Bruce came over for the night, he ate Randall's left over take out food. Randall was one to hold a grudge; I just thought it was funny. "Hey, Randall dude, what's up, man?"  
  
Randall rolled his eyes. "Nothing 'is up', Bruce. How's about you continue your 'riveting' conversation with Val?" Randall wasn't in the mood to talk to Bruce, though, he never was.  
  
Just then, Bruce became fixated on Randall's piano key tie. "Aw, Dude! Where'd you get that awesome tie? Does it play Stairway to Heaven?" He asked with a chuckle.  
  
Randall was starting to turn red. "No, no it doesn't. You tripped out criton! This tie does not play music. And I bought it at the mall!" Randall's temper back in high school wasn't as well kept as it is today. And also, Randall was always under the delusion that the word "cretin", was pronounced "kritten".  
  
"Was it on sale?" Bruce asked, I could tell, he was honestly interested. Randall shot him a look that was a mixture of fire and ice, it even freaked me out.  
  
"Whoa, man, just chill! Forget I like, said anything," Bruce said as he pulled a candy bar out of his jacket and placed it in his mouth, wrapper and all. Bruce was always eating snacks, for a more than obvious reason.  
  
There were several teachers at school that had it in for me, most of all, our English teacher, Mrs. Crawfish. She was ancient. I still think she taught the cave monsters in prehistoric times. She looked like a withered old scorpion, and she had the temper of one. She also had a very predominant hump on her back. It wasn't pleasant. And to top it off, every fifteen minutes, or so, she go outside and have a smoke. It was rumored that she stored the smoke in her hump to make it through classes. She was crazed.  
  
The first day we had her in tenth grade, she ranted and raved in a rather raspy voice, "Everyone said this hump on my back would put me in a wheelchair and I'd never be able to walk! They said I'd never have children! But, I have twelve! All the doctors said smoking would kill me, but here I am, eighty-five years-old, and I've been smoking since I was sixteen!" It was magical. Over her blackboard was a plack that read "Be reasonable. Do it my way, or fail." Bruce thought it was a joke, until he got an F on his first A paper.  
  
Another fine example of a teacher was Mr. Sullivan, tall, blue, hairy, and a total dipshit. He was your usual eccentric science teacher. He was totally convinced everyone in the room was on dope, except his perfect son, James Phillip Sullivan. He didn't believe in calling us by name. He called us by numbers. Since me, Bruce, and Greg sat in the back, after heavily persuading Greg, we had numbers 15, 16, and 17. I feel sorry for the two guys in front who were "# 1 and 2." As Bruce would say, "He was a trip."  
  
As far as Randall and I knew, Mr. Sullivan lost a job opening, to our dad, at Monsters Inc. Since he simply despised our dad, he hated Randall and me even more. He'd given us both detention more times than we could count, usually for something his perfect son and his moronic friend, Michael Wazowski, did.  
  
If you've read today's newspapers, you know all about my "evil" brother and the two "heroes", Mike and Sully. But you didn't have to be around them. Sullivan was the total jock. He went out with a preppy, snob cheerleader named Cynthia Sulston. She was butt ugly, to a T. And as for Wazowski, he was the total class clown. He thrived off of attention, like some stupid three year-old. He even competed with Bruce. Bruce was naturally funny, Wazowski wasn't. Yet he was "Mr. Popular", only because he hung out with Sullivan. But, they were perfect for each other, the beautiful couple.  
  
The bus was rocketing down the street at a blinding ten miles an hour. It was anarchy. "People on ludes should not drive busses. By the time we get to school, it'll be lunchtime. Come on, can't we go any faster!" Bruce was yelling at the bus driver. "I saw my grandmother sprint by us!"  
  
"Don't give me that, Spencer! I'll write you up if you give me anymore lip!" The bus driver yelled from her seat at the front of the bus. I could smell her perfume all the way from the back. Las Clair de Luna, I think it was, it was nastier than the name suggested.  
  
I looked over at Bruce, "Your last name's Spencer?" I asked, holding back a laugh.  
  
"Yeah, man. Don't rub it in," he said with a smirk. He took raised up in his seat and rubbed one of his bloodshot eyes. "But Mrs. Belster, I don't have any lips to give you. Besides, you already have a pair, don't you?" The whole bus broke into an uproar of laughter. Even Randall couldn't help but bust out laughing.  
  
"That's it, Spencer! You've crossed the line! I'm reporting you to the office when we get to school!" Mrs. Belster was blood red; spit was flying from her mouth. It was a sight to behold. I knew, one day, Bruce would make her snap. I gave Bruce a high five, since I only had three fingers though; it was a "high three".  
  
I said, "Dude, we have got to go to the mall some time. We can have some pizza, play some arcade games. I'll buy the pizza." It had been a while since we had hung out at the mall. Bruce's parents were both drunks, so he didn't get out much, and after what he told the driver, I felt it my duty to buy him pizza.  
  
"Yeah, sounds cool dude. But, why?" He asked with yet another smirk.  
  
"Because, you're my friend, you're cool, and you deserve something after that!" We both started laughing.  
  
Bruce looked over at Randall, "What about him? Is he coming?"  
  
"No, he's got to go get his learner's," I said. "He doesn't have time for his little bro anymore."  
  
Randall just laughed, "Yeah right, I spend lots of time with you."  
  
Yeah, yeah, I know." I looked over at Bruce; the smell of his clothes was starting to make me hungry. "Hey man, can I have a candy bar?"  
  
"Yeah, sure," Bruce said as he handed me another candy bar from his pockets.  
  
Finally, the bus pulled up into the parking lot of the high school. "Abandon hope, all ye who enter here." I said with a sorrowful grimis that would win anybody an acting award. Both Randall and Bruce laughed. 


	3. In The Halls

I sat in my seat just as the first period bell rang. The exact moment after the ring, our English teacher, Mrs. Crawfish, slammed the door shut and locked it behind her. As usual, Bruce was still out there in the hall looking into the class thru the door's window.  
  
I raised my hand. "What is it, Boggs?" Crawfish asked.  
  
Clearing my throat I spoke. "Well, Mrs. Crawfish, I think Bruce is still outside and I don't think it would be fair to deprive him of the excellent education we are receiving in your classroom," some of the other monsters in the room laughed under their breath, until Mrs. Crawfish gave us all one of her ice cold glares. The whole room went silent.  
  
"Well Mister Boggs," she began with a sneer, like a mighty dictator surveying a crowd, "perhaps you should keep him company out there. How's that sound?" Her eye twitched.  
  
" Well, if you think that this decision is for the best, than I don't believe I have any objections," I always used my best behavior around Crawfish, not only did it give me a defense against her saying I was being disrespectful, but it also pissed her of even more.  
  
As I said, Crawfish was now pissed, but I kept my cool. "Don't you get smart with me Boggs!" she began to yell, and when Crawfish yelled, it was like a thunder storm, loud and wet. Spit flew from her mouth like a water gun and her eye twitched even more.  
  
"I'm not trying to get smart with you Mrs. Crawfish. I'm not yelling at you or using a smart tone. I'm speaking to you in a respectful tone." I sat in my seat, smiling innocently as I spoke.  
  
"OUT! Get out of my classroom now or I'll call your mother!" Crawfish was now in one of her fanatical moods and I didn't feel like getting rained on anymore.  
  
I left my stuff in my desk and started to walk out. "I'll come back for my stuff at the end of class."  
  
"Out!" I had finally done it. After a grueling time of a minute and a half, I had snapped Crawfish's last nerve. She unlocked the door and I walked out.  
  
"Mrs. Crawfish, uh, is now a bad time to ask if I can come in?" Bruce was also playing the "Send Crawfish to the loony bin game." And he was even better at it than I was. She glared at him, eye twitching, and slammed the door in his face.  
  
I looked over at Bruce and smiled. "Told you it would work dude," Bruce grinned at me as he spoke.  
  
"Yeah, you were right," I gave him a high five. "You wanna' go raid the snack machines?"  
  
"Sure, sounds good to me. I could probably eat a human," he said with a smile. He always smiled. You'd smile too if you'd been stoned since the seventh grade.  
  
"I don't want to picture that, Bruce!" we always liked to joke around, and now was no exception.  
  
Bruce chuckled a little as we walked down the hall. "So, where's Greg?"  
  
"Isn't that obvious? He's in class. He wouldn't cut if you paid him," I knew I was right.  
  
Greg wouldn't have missed a class if you had just gotten shot in the head, needed to go to the hospital, and he was the only one there. I don't think he ever took off a sick day. Rumor was, his mom pushed him to overachieve. Sad really. One time he had to go to therapy for two weeks just because he made a B+!  
  
A few minutes into our trek to the snack machine, we ran into Wallace Ingram. Wallace was the poster guy for Monstropolus High. He was the guy that I, personally looked up to. Yeah right!  
  
He was in yearbook staff, spirit team, flag team, Future Achievers, Honor Society, School Softball team, Computer and Tech. Club, and any other school organization that could kiss the principal's ass. And, most importantly of all, he valiantly served our fine school as the hall monitor. All I have to do is think about him, and I'll start laughing my scaly ass off!  
  
It was so pathetic, he roamed the halls aimlessly in his blue hat, and a bright-orange sash across his chest.  
  
Other than the stupid wardrobe, Wallace was a large, snake/ lizard monster with some of the biggest muscles you'll ever see. He had a mouth packed with three rows of five-inch razor-sharp teeth. He had a five-foot tail, and horrific looking claws. He was intimidation incarnated.  
  
Too bad, though, that he was a TOTAL wuss!  
  
I looked over at Bruce and tried to stay calm, and not start rolling on the floor laughing. "Um, hiya Wally-boy."  
  
He sneered. "Cut the bullcrap Boggs. Let's see the hall pass," He held out his clawed hand.  
  
"My, what language!" I mumbled. Fortunately, Wallace was slightly hard of hearing.  
  
Bruce spoke up, "What hall pass?"  
  
Wallace sneered even more, "The hall pass you must possess to walk around these fine halls."  
  
"Oh, that hall pass. Well, um." Bruce stood there looking up at the eight- foot tall hall monitor.  
  
I held out my hand like I was going to stop him. "Hang on a sec Wally boy. Do you have a hall pass?" I asked him.  
  
"No, I don't. What business is."  
  
"Then what are you doing in the halls young man?" I wagged my finger at him. "For shame, a school official breaking the rules."  
  
And as if it wasn't possible, his sneer got even larger. Now, even a dentist would think this was too much. "Boggs, I don't need one. I'M the hall monitor."  
  
"Number one, my name's Val. And Number two, it's that orange sash you're wearing, isn't it? Is that where your whole source of authority is built upon?" Bruce had to choke back the tears of laughter for that one.  
  
"Oh, so that's what it is!" I said with a grin. I used my newly developed blending skills and the next second, I had a bright-orange strips going across my chest. "Well, then I guess we can be moving along now."  
  
Just then, I saw, coming around the corner, the one thing I didn't want to see, Sullivan! 


	4. The Runin with Sullivan and Wazoi Whatev...

Sullivan came walking around the corner just like "Mr. Cool." He was strutting worse than that Travolta dude in that disco movie. The one with that cool light-up floor and a paint store. It was pretty stupid. He looked like a rooster on LSD. And, of course, running behind him was Wazowski.  
  
"Hey, Wallace, look, Sullivan doesn't have a hall pass! Go bug him for a while why don't ya," I glared dead into Wallace's eyes. Sullivan obviously heard me, because he gave me on of his "What a stupid loser looks." Man, I hated his guts!  
  
As the moronic twosome got closer, and I was handling Wally-boy, Bruce slid into the bathroom. He moved as silently s death and as gracefully as an octopus without legs. He wasn't a chicken or anything. I just knew that Bruce'd had about five sodas before he got on the bus. Normally, Bruce would have stayed their and duked it out with Sullivan and Captain Cyclops.  
  
"Hey Lizard boy!" The walking olive's voice drilled thru my skull and ran all the way down my spine. It was such an obnoxious sound. I didn't know what made it worse, his massive braces, or his tongue piercing. He had a very smug, and very shiny, grin on his face. He had on an aqua blue t-shirt with "Relax" written on it, brown loafers, without socks, and a white linen sports jacket. He was going for the "Miami Vice look." It sucked when HE wore it.  
  
Wazowski's face was covered in zits. He looked like a sausage pizza with one big pepperoni in the middle. Also, back then, he didn't have a contact lens. He wore the biggest glasses on the market. The rim was thicker than my arm. And speaking of thick, the lens was about two and a half inches thick.  
  
Wazowski was such a wanna-be, I was sickening. The only reason he was friends with Sullivan, was because they had been such good buddies in Elementary and Middle School.  
  
While Sullivan kept heading toward me and Wallace, Wazowski walked into the bathroom. I looked at Sullivan with pure hatred. Sullivan was wearing high- top sneakers and a varsity jacket with the number ten on it. It should have had a great big zero on the back of that thing.  
  
Sullivan was on about five foot nine inches, which was only three inches taller than me. He always wore that stupid football jacket and a pair of snake skin boots. I always suspected he wore those boots just to piss me off.  
  
"Do you have a hall pass Mr. Sullivan?" Wallace had already made the decision to let the jock go free. He just had to act like he was doing his job. Damn, the school system is so corrupted. Athletes always got special privileges and free passing grades. It sucked so much.  
  
Sullivan gave Wallace a suave grin and answered, "You already know the answer to that Ingram." He patted Wallace on the shoulder and whispered something into his ear. A few moments later Sullivan noticed I was trying to listen in and he looked at me angrily. "Piss off loser. This isn't any of your business."  
  
I could have come up with better words and phrases than "Piss off" for Sullivan. I had dreams about kicking his ass. And I knew, one day, they'd come true.  
  
"Whatever, dipshit" I mumbled. I figured that this was working fine. I had just gotten out of a hall violation citation, and I already had a plan for Sullivan. Now was not the time to carry it out. It was all about timing and opportunity. Plus, not getting caught was pretty sweet too.  
  
Just then, Bruce walked back out of the bathroom, wiping water off of his hands. He looked even happier than usual, and for good reason. Fallowing him, was Wazowski. He was soaked to the bone and wrapped in toilet paper. Also, the asshole was sporting the largest black eye I've ever seen. It was a refreshing change. Wazowski went from a walking olive, to a walking black eyed pea.  
  
It didn't take long for Sullivan to notice what was going on. He turned around and grabbed Bruce by the neck. If Sullivan thought I was going to watch him pull that, he was just as stupid as his loser old man. I ran up behind him and knock his feet out from under him with my tail.  
  
The second Bruce was free of Sullivan's grip, he punched Wazowski in his eye again and we both went tearing down the hall as fast as we could. After about a minute or so of running, we stopped and looked around.  
  
We stood there trying to catch our breath. I looked over at Bruce and started laughing. Within seconds, he had joined me.  
  
"What happened in there?" I asked.  
  
"That asswipe tried to give me a swirly, so a screwed him up," This was the most heroic thing I'd ever heard.  
  
"Cool," I said. Just then, in the distance we could hear the sound of approaching snake skin boots and the plopping sound of wet loafers.  
  
We were both still standing there in the hallway trying to catch our breath.  
  
"Plan A, or plane B, dude?" Bruce asked, trying to catch his breath.  
  
"B," I huffed out.  
  
I climbed up the wall and punched in one of the ceiling tiles. Bruce fallowed me up. We both climbed into the roofing just as Sullivan and Wazowski came running thru. Being the morons that they are, neither one of them notice the big hole in the roof.  
  
It was pretty bad up in the roof. There were old rusty pipes, and enough just to make mom discouraged. Cob webs stretched from pipe to pipe and wall to wall.  
  
"Hey, Bruce. You wouldn't happen to know which way the snack machines are, would you?"  
  
"Yeah, dude. They're like, back behind us, and a little ways to the left. I think." He slapped a spider crawling up his arm.  
  
"Okay. Then let's get going," Bruce started crawling toward where he said the machines were. "Next Time we go for plan A. There is no way hiding in the girl's room is worse than this."  
  
A few minutes later I was definitely getting bored. It seemed like we had been crawling for hours, and I could have sworn we had past that dead pigeon before.  
  
"Hey Bruce, you wanna' hear a joke?"  
  
"Sure."  
  
"Okay. A nun, a Rabbi, and Susan Scarendon walk into a bar. The nun orders a vodka and tonic, the Rabbi orders a club soda, and Scarendon orders a White Russian. The rabbi looks at the nun and says." Just then the ceiling caved in and we both fell thru. And, of course, we went with it.  
  
I opened my eyes and looked around. We were in a steamy room with a white tile floor, and lockers. There were benches on the floor and some showers at one end. I could also see plenty of towels and duffle bags. But, that wasn't the only thing I notice. I'm sure Bruce also noticed the large group of screaming girls wrapped in towels surrounding us.  
  
They were jumping up and down screaming and desperately trying to cover themselves. One of them was attempting to kill Bruce her tennis shoe. Leah Dunver, the school slut, just stood there bare-ass naked, smiling.  
  
It took me a minute to regain my composure. "Um, we're very sorry ladies. We were looking for the snack machines and I guess we. uh," I lost my composure again. Leah was way too much of a distraction.  
  
Bruce fought his way thru the group of girls with shoes and grabbed my by the collar of my jacket. Like greased lightning he ran out of the girl's shower dragging me behind like a flaming bat out of hell.  
  
It seemed like he just kept running and running, until, suddenly, he just suddenly stopped. I turned around and got to me feet. Bruce was almost in a zombie like trance. I looked around to find what had him so transfixed. Then, I saw it.  
  
Looming in the distance, in all their glory, were the snack machines. We both broke out in a full run straight for them. I popped a few coins into it and pressed on of the buttons, nothing happened. I pressed the coin release button, nothing happened. Then I looked up and saw, on a piece of paper taped to the machines, the words, "Out Of Order." 


	5. A New Face In the Crowd

*Hey everybody. Sorry about how long it's taken me to update. I've been so busy and high school's a bitch in real life. I'll never take biology again. Anyway. I've discovered a new subculture and I've decided to incorperate it into my story. Also, I've decided to parody more than just one 1980's movie in this story. I hope you enjoy*  
  
Chapter 5  
A new face in the crowd  
  
I couldn't believe how cheap our school was! The snack machines were never out of order before this. This was an insult! An abomination! A travesty!  
  
Bruce looked at me kinda' worried looking. Really, I think he was still thinking about Leah Dunver. "Dude, what are we going to do?" he asked.  
  
"I'll tell ya' what we'll do. We're going to get something to eat." I walked over to the machine and kicked the glass in with my boot. Now, if the school had of had surveillance cameras, there would have been no way in hell I would have done that. But, under the given circumstances, the machine was fair game. With a loud "Crash!", snacks and drink cans flowed out onto the floor from the machine's gaping wound. Me and Bruce scooped up as much up off the floor as we could carry and hauled for bear to the boys room.  
  
The school bathrooms were pretty nice, as far school bathrooms go. It had white tile floors with black stalls. The walls were tiled as well in a black and white checker pattern. They always reminded me of Randall's shoes. Me and Bruce ran into two adjacent stalls to eat.  
  
We spent the remainder of first period eating and drinking in two of the stalls. Let me tell you, never try to sit on the lid of a toilet. It will give you a mother of an ass ache.  
  
"Hey, Bruce?"  
  
"Yeah, man?" Suddenly, I heard the sound of a match striking something. Within seconds, the strong smell of pine wafted onto my tongue, and a load of smoke was rising out of the stall next to me. Bruce always carried around "a little something extra", as he so aptly put it, in case of emergencies.  
  
"You still want to catch a movie after school, man?" Whatever he was smoking, it was pretty good. And pretty strong, too. I was starting to get a buzz just from the smoke. I remember, it had a hint of pineapple in it. It was probably Maui Wowy. That type of stuff was smuggled in especially from Hawaii in the human world. It came in cans disguised as confectionary coconut.  
  
"Sure." He took another hit. "Hey, you got another twinkie over there?"  
  
I grinned. "Sure, just a sec." I passed him a twinkie under the wall of the stall.  
  
"Hey, dude, you want a hit?" Bruce asked.  
  
"Sure, but just one. Okay?" I said. Bruce's hand appeared under the stall and handed me the joint. "Thanks."  
  
"Yerwelcom," he mumbled.  
  
I took a drag. It was pretty good. It even tasted like pineapple. It was just as you would thin Hawaii would tast like, if you could smoke it. I opened up a can of soda and grabbed a cookie. I thought to myself, "Funny thing about some cookies. They're wrapped in the thinnest plastic, yet it takes a Sherman tank to get em' opened." I laughed to myself after arriving upon this thought. By the time I got the cookie in my mouth, I had finished my soda and the second period bell had started ringing.  
  
"Shiff!" I yelled with a mouthful of cookie.  
  
We both came running out of the stalls with are arms full of empty wrappers and a half smoked joint clenched in my teeth. Bruce was so out of it by this point, he tripped and fell flat on his face. Cady wrappers and cans went everywhere. I dumped all of my trash, including the weed in the trash can and ran back to Bruce to help him up.  
  
"Thanks, man," he said while picking up his garbage. After he threw it all away, we both ran back to Crawfish's room to get our stuff.  
  
After getting our books, we headed for next period, which unfortunately excluded Bruce. None of my friends were in second period. It sucked, and for obvious reasons.  
  
Second period was Mr. Snaders class. Mr. Sanders was a smaller monster than most. He resembled a green, furry banana in a Hawaiian shirt. He wore thick classes and little brown loafers. He ran the journalism department of Monstropolis High School. And so of course, this meant I was on the school paper. I know that sounds nerdy, but it's an easy "A".  
  
The only problem with this class was the Sullivan was in it, so was every Prep that was acquainted with him, that you could imagine. You know the crowd. They wore polo shirts, kakis, sweaters tied around their necks, and little satin jackets. They're parents had money and so they acted like it was all their money. They drove their daddies' sports cars and made every "poor person", as they put it, miserable. In other words, if you weren't just like them, then they tried their damndest to make your life a living hell.  
  
Sullivan and his posse all sat at the front of the room. I myself, sat in the back. But, that meant walking the gauntlet through the Sullivan mob to the back. Every time, I'd have to endure their taunts and sarcasms. "That leather jacket doesn't look good on you. Maybe you should wear snakeskin." Or "Nice boots. I REALLY like them. Did they sell men's clothes where you bought them?"  
  
I'd just smile at them and one of my boots would "accidentally" hook on the back packs and books and paper would go flying all over the place. I'd just keep smiling and say, "Oops. I'm sorry. Maybe if you wouldn't leave it out there, maybe my boots wouldn't catch on them." Then, in a patronizing tone, I say, "Try not to let it happen again."  
  
Anyway, today was no different. Things went right according to schedule, and I reached my seat with minor resistance. That's when I discovered that this class was going to be different from last time I was in this class. A girl walked in. She looked like no monster I had ever seen. If I hadn't have been as smart as I was, I would have thought this was a human. She looked just like one. Except that her skin was as white as marble and she had jet black lips, finger nails, and black rings around her eyes. In fact, everything about her, except her skin, was black. She was tall and thin, with long hair. She was wearing tight, black pants and what I can only describe as a corset type shirt. Over that she had on a long black coat and high heeled boots. She was drop-dead gorgeous.  
  
All thoughts of Susan were pushed out of my mind as she continued to walk into the room. From up front I could hear wolf whistles and obscene cat calls. One of Sullivan's friends tried to slap her on the ass as she walked by. She turned around and smiled at him like she wanted him right then and there. I thought, "Oh man, what a slut!"  
  
Then, with a sickening "Puttch!" she punched him square in the face. It looked like her fist was imbedded in his face.  
  
He went flying out of his desk onto the floor and she continued walking toward the back of the class. Absolute silenced fallowed her every move.  
  
As luck would have it, the only empty seat in the room was situated next to yours truly. Gracefully, she walked to the seat and sat down. Her coat flowed behind her like a delicate flag in a breeze. She looked over at me and smiled. "Hi." As she spoke, her lips exposed two long fangs. She resembled what humans call "Vampyre".Damn, she was gorgeous!  
  
"Um, hi," I said. "I'm Val. What's your name?"  
  
She smiled her vampire smile and said, "I'm Kim. It's nice to meet you." She extended her thin, white hand. I reached out and shook it with my own.  
  
Meanwhile, upfront, Sullivan's "lucky" friend was just climbing back into his desk rubbing his jaw, when Mr. Snaders walked in. "Mr. Lucky" had the imprints of Kim's rings engraved in his forehead.  
  
"Attention students!" He began, "We have a new student with us today." He straightened his shirt and pointed toward the back of the class, "This is Kim Boggs." This cause a calamitous uproar of whispers and gossiping.  
  
It echoed in my head, "Kim kim kim im im Boggs boggs oggs oggs" It wouldn't stop echoing. "Hold the phone! Did he just say what I think he just said??" I thought to myself. I was in a state of shock. I couldn't move. I couldn't feel any of my legs. "There's no way he just said what I think he just said? There's no wa."  
  
Just then, the fire alarm started ringing. Everybody jumped up from their seats and hit the door. Outside the halls were crowded with two things, the students and teachers from the school, and smoke, lots and lots of smoke. The fire alarm was blaring to a point that as you walked past it, you lost your hearing for at least thirty seconds. It was total chaos. Even better, it was anarchy! In the heat of the moment I screamed, "WE'RE ALL GONNA DIE!!" This made everybody go insane. People were clawing and trying to climb over each other. People were being pushed thru walls. An entire row of lockers was ripped off of the wall. It was the greatest spectacle I had ever seen!  
  
Finally, we got outside onto the campus grounds. Smoke was lightly pouring out of the windows of the school. Unfortunately, I couldn't see any real flames. So, unfortunately, I anticipated that school would not be out indefinitely. I looked over at Kim and said, "We gotta' talk. Okay."  
  
"Um, sure," she said, looking at me through a pair of thin, black sunglasses that she had put on without me noticing.  
  
"Come on." I grabbed her by the arm and started walking. We both sneaked out of the crowd and into the trees that lined the grounds.  
  
*I hope you enjoyed this new chapter. I plan to start updating more often now. Also, please, after you're done reading, please write a review, or you can just drop me a line. Thanks a bunch.* 


	6. Interview With a Vampire

Hello again everybody! Mr. Pink here. Sorry about the wait. School really sucks, you know. I'm probably going to' fail Alg.II so I figured now's as good a time as any. Also, a review from Nox3 made me decide to get off my ass. Thanks. Anyway, most of the stuff in this story I don't own, please don't sue me. Thanks

Chapter 6

Interview with a Vampire

We went to the little clearing in the trees behind the school where me and Bruce would sneak off during Gym class to smoke a few. In the middle was a pair of rusted old lawn chairs I had snagged from my next-door neighbor. She never used them. Anyway, we sat down in the chairs, Kim had a bit of a time with her chair though, seeing how it's not really built for those of her anatomic structure. But after a short stint, she was relatively comfortable.

"So," I spoke, then cleared my throat, "who are you exactly? I'll buy you're a vampire; I've seen 'em before. But I know you 'aren't from around here. And I know we aren't related."

"Well duh! What would make you think we are?" Every time her lips parted her fangs would peer out for a few moments. It was kinda' cool looking. But I wasn't going to let the fact that she was really hot, no wait, EXTREAMLY HOT, get in the way of what we were discussing.

"MY last name is Boggs. YOUR last name is Boggs. And I'm pretty sure no one outside my family has that name, unless, I'm mistaken. Could you clear this up a little?"

She sat there for a few minutes, as if thinking. Like she had a deep dark terrible secret that she wanted to tell someone, anyone that would listen. Something boiling deep down in her guts like an ulcer. Then she spoke. "No."

"Aw, come on! Just like that, you're gonna' say "NO."?" I was actually surprised. Then it hit me. I'd give her a peace offering, something to show that, at the moment, I wasn't going to eat her. And it just so happened that your friend and humble narrator had just such a thing. Although earlier in the bathroom the joint that had caused the fire had been thrown away, I still had a little baggy of Mexico's finest Ludes in the secret pocket on the inside of my jacket. Luckily, I had forgotten about them whilst I was toking with Bruce. I pulled the baggy out and pulled out one of the little pink pills. "You want a Lude? Calm you down, huh? C'mon, whatdoyasay?"

She kinda' rolled her eyes and consented. "Fine, if you'll just shut up." She took the Lude and sure enough, a few minutes later she was a cool as an Eskimo Pie, and more than ready to talk.

"So, what's going on here?"

"Well, if you must know. But you can't tell nobody." She kinda' slurred when she talked. And she had started to rock back and forth in a gentle swaying motion. One of her darkened eyelids drooped slightly lower than the other.

"Okay, for now, I promise I won't tell nobody."

"Fine. I'm a human."

"I figured that. Most vampires are slightly human."

"No, I mean, TOTALLY human." Now this was a shock to me. A severe shock to me. But, I wasn't all too worried. As I said before, my old man worked at the factory and new a thing or two about humans, especially that they aren't toxic. So, I just popped a Lude and chilled. "You don't seem worried." I shook my head. "Cool." She mumbled. "Anyway, I ran away from home a couple of weeks ago. My mom left my dad last year and since then he's been a bastard. I remembered this place from when I was a kid and snuck in thru my little sister's door. Don't ask how."

"Okay, fair enough. So, you're disguised as a vampire?"

"Pretty much."

"So the fangs aren't real?"

"Yeah, they're real. Grew in after my baby teeth. Genetic quirk I guess. I think they're cool."

"Same here. Mine came in after the baby teeth too." I smiled, reveling my pearly whites. She giggled a little and I continued. "What possessed you to steal my name?"

"That's an interesting thing actually. After about a week of hiding in the alleys and eating what I could, I decided I needed a place to stay. Somewhere that served food on an almost daily basis. So, I came here. I signed in as a foreign student, gave 'em a sob story and they let me register. When I was writing all that shit down on the form I couldn't think of a name to put, that's when I noticed a sign on the wall in the office, something about "Problem Students", and there was your name, at the top. So I wrote my first name and your last. Then I …

**RIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIING! **

"Aw, shit, the bell!" I said. "C'mon." We both staggered back thru the trees, up the hill and into the crowd.

"**ALL STUDENT REPORT TO THE ASSEMBLY HALL. I REPEAT, ALL STUDENT REPORT TO THE ASSEMBLY HALL!" **The overhead intercom system blared.

So, in a yelling screaming hoard of students we proceeded down the hallway to the assembly hall. That's when I caught sight of Bruce. "Hey, Bruce! Over here!" I yelled. He looked over and smiled. He approached us, in the same staggering gate we were both walking with.

"Hey man, what's up?"

"Nothing much. Have you met my cousin Kim? Uh, long lost, twice removed cousin Kim?" I still, to this day, don't know why I said that. Maybe it was because I thought she was interesting, or because she was hot. But the important thing was that I had said it and there was no going back.

"Nice to meet you man, I mean girl," he said sticking out a hand to shake.

Kim first looked at me for a second, first in shock, then in delight. The surprised look on her face quickly melted into a smile and she look at Bruce, seizing his hand and shaking it vigorously. "Nice to meet you Bruce. I just transferred in here. It's nice to me a friend of my cousin…"

"Val," I whispered.

"Val," she said as loud as she could.

Bruce looked at me and smiled even bigger. "You never told me you had a long lost, twice removed cousin. That's cool." Then he got a look at her fangs. "Dude, and she's a vampire! That's totally awesome!"

Kim smiled and we walked into the assembly hall.

Now, here's the jist of what was said. Our principle gave us a talk of the many dangers of drugs, told us the fire was drug related, he'd be watching us, and because of the damage from the fire and sprinklers, school would be out until Monday. Now this was a big deal because it was just now Tuesday morning, not even noon yet. This meant that we would have a five-and-a-half day weekend!

I looked at Kim and Bruce and said, "You wanna' catch a flick at the mall?"

"Hell yeah!" They said at the same time.

"Hey, no talking during assembly you three!" Some bitch teacher yelled at us from the stage.

"**SCREW YOU!"** The entire room yelled at the same time. Nobody liked her.

I hope you guys really enjoyed this one and I hope to write more SOON. In the meanwhile, please leave a review or drop me a line, I love to hear from readers. thanks.


	7. Adventures at the Mall

I do not own Monsters inc. or any of their characters. But I guess I would theoretically own mine. But that seems like a rhetorical thought, don't you think? Oh, well. Hope you enjoy Chapter 7

Chapter 7

Adventures at the Mall

As soon as we were released from assembly, Bruce, Kim, and myself hitched a ride with a friend of mine and went to the mall. Now the Monstropolis Mall you know today is nothing like the one we went to back in the day. At the time it was only two stories and still under construction in places. Most of the fountains didn't work yet and every now and then the power would go out in a random area. There were about thirteen stores that either moved or went out of business, mostly due to folks like me and the three-finger discount. They catered to different things ranging from music, to beta, video games like the Arteri3400 and Shreak-o-vision, clothes, and who knows what else. I can't remember everything, now can I?

Before we went to the theater, I made a quick stop at Monstrop. Mail, an odd store I went to every now and then. This was the place where I purchased all my attire, save the boots. Anyway, this visit was not for clothes, this was for something else.

"Wow," Kim said gazing on the apple of my eye, the soul core of my desire and avarice. The Frazder PX-2357 was the most magnificent electric guitar I had ever laid eyes on. It was a forty inch scale length Neon green and black "Flying V" design with two Maple wood bolt-on necks/ fingerboards, two triple saddle bridges, two vintage single-coil Precision Bass pickups, vint. Frets, Dot inlays, two distortion bars, and twelve tuning knobs. It was the mother of all guitars.

I gently plucked it up off its display case and began to play the opening licks to Stairway to Heaven.

"Hey, kid! Can't you read??" A snotty clerk yelled at me while he pointed up to a sign hanging from the ceiling. It read, "NO STAIRWAY TO HEAVEN!"

Bruce looked at me kinda' sour faced and said, "Ahh, Stairway denied man! Bummer."

I put the guitar back on the stand and we left. A few stores down from Mail was the theater. I happened to know a guy who worked there and always got me in for free. Today was no different.

"Hey Chet, what's up?" I asked. Me and Chet were really good friends when we were kids. He was a few years older than me, so he had just graduated the year before and was working at the theater for the time being. Chet was yet another reptilian type monster I had become friends with. "To each his own" I guess you could say.

"Yo Val, what's cracking?"

"Nothing much. We need a few tickets for, uh, The Lunch Club," I said winking. We had decided to see some blood n' guts slasher flick, but to cover my ass, we got tickets to some teenage comedy.

"What's with the chick man? She looks like a human. Is she even with you?" Chet was looking panicked and I knew if I didn't think fast, cousin Kim was going to be in a real pile of shit.

"No way man. She's a distant cousin. Show him your fangs Kim." Kim gave him a flash of the teeth and I continued. "She's a vampire. It's not her fault she USED to be a human. Cut her a break, man."

"Oh, sorry. I really am."

"It's cool. I get that a lot," Kim said as we walked in.

When we got inside the actual screen room, the picture was already starting. All three of us climbed up the stairs to the seats in the far back. They were right below the projection box. About twenty or so minutes into the film, guess who comes strolling in, yep, you guessed again, Sullivan and Wazowski. I leaned forward and whispered to Bruce, "If it starts getting heavy, I want you to take Kim to the food court and hide near the burger joint. I'll meet up with you in a few minutes." He nodded his head and we waited.

"Well, what do we have here? Two losers and a hot chick. What are you doing with these creeps?"

"Go away Sullivan, we're trying to watch a movie here. And don't talk to my cousin." I said. It might not sound like they were tough words, but trust me, they were.

"I don't think anyone was talking to you, loser," Wazowski said thru a mouthful of popcorn. The little cornels flew out of his gaping maw and landed on already filthy floor.

"Yeah, doesn't this theater have a no fags allowed policy?" Yet another "witty" crack came from the blue oaf.

"I guess, but the seem to have an open-door stance on assholes." After saying this both Kim and Bruce giggled.

"That's it loser, you're dead meat!"

"Now!" I yelled and punched Sullivan in the nosed, with all four hands. He fell and rolled down the stairs clutching his bleeding nose. Bruce lunged forward and "poked" Wazowski in the eye, with his foot.

With them incapacitated for the moment we made our second move. I broke left, they broke right. I ran down the stairs and jumped over the two morons. As planned, they quickly got back up and began to follow me. I headed straight for the men's room and waited in one of the stalls. I had the door almost wide open, but I also had my foot on the back, ready to kick it in. Sure enough, a few moments later, there stood Sullivan. Blood was dripping all down his face, one eye was swelled shut, he had a chipped tooth, and, if I wasn't mistaken, his nose seemed to bend a little too far to the right.

"Now I'm gonna' kill you Loser. I'm gonna' rip your head off and shit down your neck! Then I'm gonna' go and …" I didn't let him finish. With a swift kick and a sickening smack, I had ridded my mind of any doubt that his nose was not broken.

I knelt down to check Sullivan. When I was sure he was out, I grabbed his wallet and snagged a couple of twenties. Then I headed for the door. Just when I was almost home free the little red eye got in my way. I stopped and hesitated for a second. After a few seconds of quick thinking, I picked up a nearby garbage can and plunged it right into his face. With another crack sound, I knew that was the second broken nose I'd given today. Once he was out in the floor, I ran for the exit before someone could come to investigate the ruckus.

After I met back up with Bruce and Kim, we grabbed a quick bite to eat from the money I had "found" and then we left. Fortunately, the afternoon bus was just stopping outside.

It was about the middle of the afternoon when I got home. Bruce was now at his house, probably getting high and me and Kim were a block down the street from my house. Usually I would have been thrilled to get home, but the police cars outside were kinda' a mood killer. We got off the bus just out of view of my house and I told Kim to hide out in the shed until I came to get her.

When I went inside, there stood mom and two officers of the law.

"Are you Val Boggs?" One asked.

"Yeah, what do you want?

"Were you at the Monstropolis Theater this afternoon?"

It then clicked in my head. I'd been ratted out by the dumbass duo. But, being the sly devil that I am, I played it cool. "Yeah, why?"

"We have a report that you attacked James Sullivan and Michael Wazowski during a screening of "Sorority Babes Massacre Five" and we…

"Nope, wasn't there," I said while pulling out my ticket for the other movie. "I couldn't have been there, you know how those ushers are. They're like Nazis with those tickets." This seemed to throw them off my sent. At least for now.

"Fine. I guess that'll do for now. But we're keeping an eye on you son."

"I'm sure of it," I said as I turned around and walked up the stairs to my room.

So, what'd you guess think? Hoped you liked it. Please leave reviews; I love to hear from you people. "Stairway to Heaven" is a copy write of Led Zeppelin. I got a few lines from Heathers and Wayne's World. And last, there were a few hints at The Breakfast Club, the Atari 2600, and the Colecovision game system. Please don't sue me.


End file.
